


28 Dates With Unit Bravo

by neld13



Series: Tumblr Monthly Prompts [2]
Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Self-Worth Issues, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 03:15:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 11,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29818602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neld13/pseuds/neld13
Summary: A collection of prompts written for @wayhavenmonthly's February prompt list on Tumblr.I dipped out early so it's not the whole month's worth, but I figured I'd chuck 'em up here anyway!
Relationships: Morgan/Male OC
Series: Tumblr Monthly Prompts [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2191950
Kudos: 2





	1. Chocolate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut warning! 18+ only

"How much does it suck for you that you can't eat real food?" Tanner grins up at Morgan from where he's squeezing chocolate topping over a bowl of ice cream while she watches on with a disgusted look on her face.

"Not as much as you might think." She replies flatly, her nose wrinkling when he licks a few stray drops of chocolate from the side of his hand.

Despite that, he catches the way her eyes follow his tongue as it moves over his skin, making him smirk at her.

"Yeah? Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure." She doesn't  _ sound  _ entirely sure, frowning when he picks up the bottle of topping again and proceeds to squeeze some of it along the back of his middle finger and then flips her off with it.

"You can't tell me you're not tempted to suck that." He rests his elbow on the counter, still raising his finger at her, and waits expectantly.

And  _ dammit  _ if she's not about to prove him right.

She moves slowly, her fingers wrapping around his wrist one at a time and holding his hand still as she tilts her head and runs her tongue lightly up the side of his finger.

The chocolate is disgusting, but the taste of his skin beneath it is near irresistible, more than enough to counter it, and she can't help but make another pass with her tongue. His smirk fades down to a small smile and now it's  _ his  _ eyes following  _ her  _ tongue.

She pushes his arm off of the counter and slips onto the stool with him, straddling his lap and grabbing his hand again.

"See, sunshine? I knew you'd like it." He murmurs softly when she takes his finger into her mouth this time, swirling her tongue around it and sucking lightly.

He pulls his hand away from her abruptly once the topping's gone, crashing his mouth against hers before she can question it and gripping her waist tightly when her hands immediately drop to unbutton his trousers.

"We're in the middle of the kitchen." It's not much of a protest considering he doesn't actually do anything to stop her from working his pants down enough to release his dick. In fact he even helps her by pushing her off of him and getting her jeans undone and pushed down before yanking her back down onto his lap.

"No one else is here." Her words are mumbled against his lips before she kisses him again, grinding her hips down against him and eliciting moans from both of them.

"Yeah," he pauses, reaching between them to wrap his hand around the base of his shaft to hold himself steady as she sinks down onto him, circling her hips as she goes. "yeah, okay. Screw it."

"That's what I plan to do, sweetheart." She half moans the words out, resting her hands on his shoulders for leverage as she starts to ride him.

His grip on her waist tightens as he tries to speed her up, but she pulls them off of her and moves them to the counter behind her.

"You touch me when I say you can." She mutters in reply to the questioning frown he shoots up at her, and it fades into a smirk at her words. He nods and gets a grip on the edge of the counter.

"Whatever you say, sunshine."

It's always rough and dirty with them, which he muses is probably why he puts up with her bossing him around a little. He doesn't need to bother about cuddling afterwards, he doesn't need to try to be a gentleman, he doesn't even really need to worry about whether or not she likes him. He's pretty sure she doesn't, and that's fine because he's not exactly sure that he likes her either.

She's mouthy and bitchy and not much of a conversationalist, and in her opinion he's a stuck up jackass but  _ Jesus Christ,  _ the two of them in bed together? It just  _ works.  _ Like they were made for each other. If the universe was in the habit of creating people with the specific goal of pairing up fuck buddies, that is.

She curses under her breath and lets her head loll back, shifting her hands from his shoulders to rest them on top of where his are tightly gripping the counter. He might not be able to touch but she can't stop him looking, so he runs his eyes down over her body, finding it weirdly hot to have to use his imagination to see what's going on under her shirt.

_ "Fuck,  _ Morgan." He groans out when she speeds her hips up. He's aching to get a hold of her waist, her hands, her neck,  _ anything,  _ but at the same time he kind of likes the way her fingers are curled around his, and he kind of likes just being able to sit back and appreciate the way her body moves against him, all the little things that give away how much she fucking loves him being inside of her.

From the tiny whimpers and sighs that she thinks he can't hear, to the way her eyes squeeze shut and her jaw goes slack, letting her mouth fall open when she thinks he's not looking, to the way her  _ entire  _ body reacts to him without her even realising. He soaks it all in, every little detail simultaneously boosting his ego and getting him more addicted to her.

She hits her orgasm before him, she always does, whether it's because her extra sensitivity goes beyond the external or because he's just  _ that  _ good, he doesn't know. But he takes advantage of her becoming a shuddering, moaning mess on top of him for a while to get his hands free and get hold of her again.

He takes over her movements, which have become erratic and jerky, to steadily rock her against him. He drags his gaze back up to her face, flushed red cheeks and almost glazed over eyes, she's still moaning and muttering his name and pulsing all around him when he reaches his own climax.

His head drops to her shoulder, face turned to press against her neck to muffle the loud moan of her name that escapes him as his hips buck up into her frantically, hands grasping almost desperately at her waist and her lower back in an attempt to ground himself.

Eventually his head stops swimming, the fog clearing enough for him to lift his head up only to see her already looking at him, a tiny smirk on her face.

"What?"

"I didn't say you could touch." She taps at his hands, still resting on her waist, and he rolls his eyes and drops his arms down out of her way to let her move off of him.

"Remind me to convince you to suck chocolate off of me more often." He grins at her as she pulls her clothes back on, and to his surprise he gets a short chuckle out of her.

"Maybe next time you can come up with somewhere more enticing for me to suck."


	2. Interruption

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut warning! 18+ only

Nate's gone out to- well, to do whatever it is Nate does for fun when Unit Bravo have nothing happening. Adam's in the training room and everyone knows he stays in there for hours if left alone to do so. And Farah is doing one of the things Farah does best, annoying Lucas at the station.

So Morgan and Tanner have commandeered the study in Nate's absence, doing things to each other that would make him blush furiously and cause him concern over his precious books bearing witness to them.

They've abandoned the couch - been there, done that - and have moved to the desk.  _ Nate's  _ desk. Or it might as well be, Adam is the only other person who uses it on occasion.

Morgan's perched on the edge of the desk with Tanner standing between her legs, leaning over her so that if not for her arms being wrapped around his neck to hold herself up he'd be pushing her flat on her back.

He braces himself with one hand on the desk beside her, his other is shoved down the front of her still fully buttoned jeans, two fingers slowly pumping in and out of her and his thumb pressing against her clit and circling every so often.

They're not even kissing anymore, foreheads pressed against each other as Tanner watches her face contorting in pleasure, every now and then he pushes forward to mouth messily at her cheek or her jaw but he quickly pulls back to keep watching her.

She wants it bad, her breaths short and shallow and more like gasps as her legs wrap around his hips so she can grind up against his hand, but before she can get any further he pulls it away, lifting it to his face and holding her frustrated stare with a smirk as he sucks his fingers clean.

The sight makes her let out a low and drawn out groan before her head falls back and he seizes the opportunity to kiss and lick at her neck. His hand comes to rest on her lower back, pushing her closer to the edge of the desk and rolling his hips slowly against hers, dragging a moan of his own from deep in his chest.

"I wanna fuck you so bad." He whispers against her ear, the way she shivers and arches against him when his breath hits her skin making him grind against her again. She can't even answer him, just lets out a hum of approval and lets her hips move to meet his as he keeps rocking against her.

Her head is spinning, all she can feel or smell or taste is him and she's almost drunk off of it, unable to do much more than hold on to him and allow her body to try and get closer to his. She hates how needy she is for him sometimes, but it's the best kind of high she can remember ever feeling and sometimes she becomes desperate for a hit.

Like an addict, when he'd refused to show interest in the beginning she'd tried her hardest to resist the draw she'd felt towards him since the moment she met him, but once he allowed her a taste she was hooked instantly. It's confusing to her how often she finds herself thinking about him when he's not around now and how often she finds that she can't keep herself away from him when he is.

He's not a nice guy. Not a safe person to be around, she knows this but she can't help it. She justifies it by telling herself it's just sex. As long as there's no feelings and no real connection between them it doesn't really matter what kind of person he is, right? Right.

So then why - at times like this when her body's practically vibrating with the need to feel him inside of her, when his mouth is dragging all over her neck and sucking lightly on her earlobe, when his roaming hand is bringing her ever closer to release even despite the fact that they're both still fully clothed - does she find herself wondering in the very back of her mind what it might be like to just be with him without screwing each other's brains out. Wondering if there’s a different side to him that he reserves for the people he cares about.

Someone clearing their throat loudly from the doorway distracts them. At least it  _ should  _ distract them. But the only reaction the someone gets is Morgan starting to pull away to see who it is, only for Tanner to take a firm hold of her chin and turn her back towards him before she can, covering her mouth with his again.

She groans,  _ fuck it  _ she thinks, moving one hand from behind his shoulders to trail her fingertips down over his abdomen and let them rest on the edge of his trousers as he kisses her even more intensely. If that were possible. He leans more heavily into her, still kissing along her jaw and neck as one of his hands cups her breast over her shirt and-

"Ahem." The someone clears their throat louder and more obviously and Tanner finally pulls his mouth off of her with an impatient huff, snapping his gaze towards the door.

He rolls his eyes when he sees Nate standing there, an unimpressed frown on his face and his arms crossed over his chest. Tanner straightens up and reluctantly lets his hands fall away from Morgan.

"I'd invite you to join us but," he pauses and gives Nate a quick once over, curling his top lip in disapproval. "I think we're good."

"You're in a study." Nate points out, gesturing to the room around them.

"I'm aware, thank you." Tanner answers, his voice portraying just as much disappointment as Nate’s face does at the moment. He takes a step away from Morgan anyway, knowing that as okay as he is to carry on and let Nate watch if he's going to insist on standing there like a creep, she most definitely would not be.

"Take it easy Nate, we weren't doing anything." She murmurs as she straightens her clothing out, sounding far too breathless and looking far too disheveled for her reassurance to be believable.

Nate doesn't even answer. He just raises an eyebrow, looking from her messed up hair to Tanner's loosened tie and untucked shirt before shaking his head and going about whatever it is he's in here for.

"To be continued?" Tanner suggests, glancing back over at Morgan who smirks and gives him a nod.

"As if I'd ever let you get out of it that easy."

"As if I'd ever want to."


	3. Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut warning! 18+ only

“You know I don’t want to do this, right?” Morgan mutters from the doorway of Farah’s room, watching her flit about and get ready for some night out she’s organised for the four of them. Plus Lucas. Plus Tanner.

The horror.

“Sure you do!” Farah replies cheerfully, stopping in front of her mirror and fixing her hair before she turns to look at Morgan, the slightest hint of a frown crossing her face when she eyes her friend up and down.

“That’s what you’re wearing?”

“What’s wrong with it?” Morgan fires back defensively, looking down over herself and then back up at Farah.

“You wear it every day.”

“Yeah, and I’m being dragged out for drinks with people I see every damn day, what’s the big deal?”

“I just- nothing. Nothing, it’s nothing.” Farah replies, sounding a little sad about Morgan not putting in the amount of effort that she has been for most of the afternoon.

Morgan honestly doesn’t see the big deal. Adam and Nate have seen her at her worst, and what reason would she have to try to impress them anyway? She’s not keen on Lucas and already sees far more of him than she’d like to, the last thing she wants is to give him a reason to pay attention to her. And Tanner, well it’s been pretty well established by this point that Tanner prefers her naked, so why in the hell would she dress up for him?

Thankfully, Farah drops her reservations about Morgan’s outfit as quickly as she’d picked them up, and she gives Morgan a wide grin as she steps out of her room and closes the door behind her.

“Is there a reason for this?” Morgan makes sure to weigh her words down with as much annoyance as she can muster, hoping to give Farah the hint that she would literally rather poke forks into her eyes than go out with this particular group of people.

“Maybe.”

_ Maybe.  _ It's a suspicious enough answer without the gleeful tone hidden behind the word and the side eye Farah gives her as she says it. Morgan sighs, her steps falling a little heavier on the floor as dread takes her from stomping begrudgingly to dragging her feet as though she's going to be able to somehow anchor herself to the floor to avoid going anywhere.

They round the corner to the door of the warehouse where her eyes land on Tanner. Just Tanner. No Lucas, no Adam, no Nate and Morgan takes a moment to realise that Farah's no longer beside her.

"What the hell?" She hisses, spinning around to face the young vampire, who's already slowly backing away from them, grinning so widely that Morgan wonders how it's not causing her physical pain.

"Have fun you two!" She calls but before Morgan can object, Tanner is standing beside her looking just as clueless as she feels.

"Now hold on a minute-" he begins, but he stops with a frown of confusion when Farah simply lifts a hand and points between the two of them.

"You know how hot you guys look standing next to each other, right? You owe it to all of us to go on a date and give it a shot."

"A what!?" They both exclaim at the same time, and they glare at each other before Morgan takes a step away from him and towards Farah.

"You can't make me go on a  _ date  _ with him." She just about spits the words from her mouth, but the disgust dripping from them does nothing towards wiping the smile from Farah's face.

"Maybe not, but it'd make me real happy."

"I don't do dates, kid." Tanner pipes up from behind Morgan before turning to leave the warehouse, but he makes the mistake of looking back over his shoulder. Mainly to check out Morgan's ass on his way out, but unfortunately he also catches sight of Farah actually  _ pouting  _ at him, eyes wide and hands clasped together in front of her.

"Ugh, fine." He snaps in exasperation, reaching out for Morgan's hand and pulling her towards him, not at all gently.

"No! No, not fine!" She protests even though Farah's already disappeared from view.

"She only needs to see us leave, we can go back to my room for all I care." Tanner murmurs against her ear, leaning in close. Morgan hesitates, it's a tempting thought. But then so is marching back in after Farah and smacking her across the back of the head.

Somehow, fucking Tanner in a cheap hotel room seems the more appealing of the two options, so she smirks at him and nods towards the door.

\--

They're already all over each other by the time they make it to his hotel room, his hands shoved up under her shirt and roaming over her back and sides and his tongue in her mouth as he walks her backwards through the room until they reach the bed. Her knees hit the edge of it and she falters and falls down onto the mattress, sitting back up to reach the buttons of his shirt and rip them open as he loosens his tie and then starts on his belt. He swats her hands away when she reaches for the button of his trousers and takes over, nodding down toward her.

"Strip." He instructs simply, and she only pauses for a split second to be outraged by his demanding tone before she decides it’s what she wants to do anyway and lays back, lifting her hips to push her jeans and underwear off. He’s already got his hands on her waist as she lifts her shirt over her head, impatiently pushing her further back onto the bed and kneeing his way onto the mattress with her.

"Eager much?" she gasps as one of his hands slides down her side to her leg, hitching it up and around his hips before she's even really settled herself at the top of the bed.

"For you, sunshine? Always.”

The sigh he lets out when he lifts her other leg up around his hips and pushes himself into her sounds almost relieved.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, barely giving her a chance to adjust to him before his forehead drops down to rest on her shoulder and he starts moving inside of her. She’d give him shit about his near desperation, if not for the fact that she feels exactly the same way and doing so would give him an opening to make fun of her right back. And she knows that he would.

So she decides not to mention it to, not to question why he can never seem to be able to wait to be inside of her or to at least get close to her, and not question why it’s the same way for her. The sex is good, that’s all. What else could it be?

She lifts her arms, holding onto the edge of the cheap headboard above her as he lifts his head back up enough to kiss her roughly, his stubble scraping against her lips and chin and cheeks and his tongue forcing its way into her mouth, dragging a groan from her. She thinks nothing of it when he sits up and shifts her legs so that her ankles are resting on his shoulders, one hand tightly gripping her hip to pull her back against him and the other roaming all over the front of her body.

At least not until she distinctly hears him murmur the words “beautiful, sunshine” right before his eyes roll back and his thrusts become rougher and more erratic. Even more confusing is the way his words send her over the edge unexpectedly, her hands flying back down to try to get a grip on him while her hips roll involuntarily against his as she comes.

What in the name of  _ fuck? _

He follows right after her, his hands absentmindedly running up and down the outsides of her thighs for a few seconds once he starts to come down before he seems to snap out of it and pushes her legs off of him. Whatever affection or admiration or whatever the  _ hell  _ that was disappears as quickly as it had reared its head and he pulls out of her and immediately shifts away from her, moving to the edge of the bed.

Neither of them say anything about it, but it’s an obvious presence in the room for a long while and she can’t tell if he regrets saying it or is just embarrassed to have admitted in the heat of the moment that he thinks that of her. Just like she can’t tell if she hates that he thinks she’s beautiful or if she’s just confused and embarrassed herself to have heard something that perhaps he didn’t mean for her too.

And all at once, as she’s sliding out of his bed and pulling her clothes back on, she remembers why dates are never a good idea.


	4. Coffee

Whether it's because of how bloody strong the stuff is or just because she's not at all used to smelling it, starting the day with the stench of coffee filling her nose puts Morgan in a bad mood before she's even left her room.

By the time she makes it to the common room she can just about taste the crap in the back of her throat and it's already giving her a headache. She pushes the door open and rolls her eyes, letting out a sigh so heavy and so disappointed that it may as well be a whine.

"Should've known." she mutters from her spot in the doorway, seriously considering turning around and going somewhere else when she sees Tanner sitting at one of the tables, a Styrofoam cup in front of him as he scrolls through his phone. Of course it’s him ruining her day before it’s even begun.

"Oh?" he sits his phone face down in front of him and grins at her, his fingers drumming a rhythm out against the top of the table. "Why? Getting a little wet in the knickers just from the smell of me?"

"Getting a little sick in the stomach from the stench of that shit you're putting in your mouth, actually."

"Perhaps you could suggest some alternative objects I could put in my mouth." Still grinning, and she wants to hate it, but he makes it far too tempting for her. So she takes a step into the room, a smirk slowly creeping across her face.

"I'm sure I have a ball gag stashed away somewhere."

He leans back on the chair he's sitting on and holds his hands out to her, wrists facing upwards.

"If you wanted to cuff me while you're at it I wouldn't be opposed." She can't tell if he's joking or not, still smiling cockily at her but there's what sounds like a hint of a challenge in his voice and she's not sure whether or not to take the bait.

"What are you even doing here?" she settles on asking, making her way further into the room until she's standing beside him, leaning back against the table. He doesn't answer for a moment, distracting himself by running one hand along the outside of her thigh. Only barely touching her but it's still enough to make her shiver.

"Came to see you didn't I, sunshine?" He finally answers, glancing up at her face with a smile. She just arches an eyebrow at him, waiting for a real answer until eventually he rolls his eyes, his smile fading as he looks away from her. "Your leader summoned me."

"Why?"

"Fucked if I know, otherwise I wouldn't be here."

She doesn't feel a slight pang of disappointment over him confirming that he's most definitely not here for her. She can't, because if she did, that would mean that she cares. Which she most certainly doesn't.

"Well next time drink that shit before you get here."

He just chuckles in response and shakes his head in amusement, sitting up straighter in his seat and resting his elbows on the table as he studies her.

"What?" She snaps, growing increasingly irritated under his attention.

"You really don't like me, do you?" It might be a genuine enough question, it might not get on her nerves so much if not for the amused smirk that remains plastered across his face.

"Not especially, no. Why?"

"You seemed to like me the other night."

Her focus snaps back down to him, his smile pissing her off more everytime she looks at it.

"I like your dick, just not the jackass attached to it."

He laughs at that. Not a chuckle, not a small scoff, an actual  _ laugh,  _ and it takes everything in her not to slap him across the face. She has a feeling he’d probably like that anyway.

"Well don't beat around the bush Morgan, why don't you tell me how you really feel?" he teases between laughs and all she can do is stare at him incredulously. Never has she seen someone become so - for lack of a better word - gleeful upon finding out that they're disliked.

He takes another mouthful of the coffee in front of him once he stops laughing and leans back on his chair again, his fingers returning to drumming on the table top and it's only then that she realises he's bored.

He has become bored waiting for Adam and saw his opportunity to entertain himself when she came into the room. And like an idiot she'd played right into it and given him what he wanted.

"I find it interesting that even though you hate me, you always seem to show up when I'm here." he adds after a while, his smirk gone and replaced with a curious expression.

"We're supposed to work together."

"I wasn't aware that you were needed here this morning. Adam asked you to meet him in here, did he?" The smirk returns when a few seconds go by without her replying to him, and he lifts his arms to fold his hands behind his head. "Didn't think so. And yet here you are. With me."

She racks her brain for a decent response, not liking the fact that she can't even justify why she's around him to herself, let alone articulate it out loud to him. Before she can come up with anything though, the door opens and Adam steps into the room. He pauses and eyes them both uneasily.

"I apologise, I didn't mean to interrupt…" his voice trails off and Morgan can tell that he can feel the tension in the room, as well as being able to hear her heart racing and Tanner's thumping away calmly. "is everything alright?"

"Fine." Morgan replies with a short nod, relieved for Adam's distraction and the fact that his presence is cutting through the atmosphere around her and Tanner enough for her to be able to make a beeline for the door.

She glances over her shoulder despite herself once she's in the hall. Adam's already talking, but Tanner's gaze remains fixed on her and he winks and gives her a small wave before the door clicks shut behind her.

“Cocky mother fucker.” she mutters to herself before stomping down the hall, headed back to her room.


	5. Smile

Tanner doesn't know what it is about Morgan that draws him in, only that the pull is so strong that he's all but powerless to resist it. He covers it pretty well by being… well, by being himself around her. A prick, and there's a sting that hits him right in his chest whenever he says something dismissive to or about her. It's only small, so small that he almost misses it sometimes, but it's definitely there, where there has been nothing but aching numbness for a long, long time.

It's kind of nice in a way, to feel something in a place he'd thought was dead. Relieving, almost. So he finds himself doing it more often, trying to get a rise out of her. Trying to hurt her. Just to feel that little sting to remind him that he's still alive.

She's pissed off with him right now, leaning against Lucas' car with a cigarette and scowling everywhere except directly at him. And he feels the sting every single time she deliberately looks just to the side of him. He knows she’s watching him through her peripherals, he knows that she likes him even if she doesn't quite understand those feelings in herself just yet. That's how he can hurt her so easily.

He also knows that he has feelings for her, if he was to give them a chance to flourish, but it's been too long since he felt anything genuine for anyone. He's done too many things, burnt too many bridges, and long ago decided that he's not to be trusted with anyone. He's not good for her, not good in general, and even if she hates him for it he knows that he's doing the best thing for Morgan by keeping his distance.

Still, though. That sting is addictive and what's the harm in causing it by being cruel to someone who already knows he's bad news anyway?

He offers a half hearted wave to Lucas as he gets into his car, pulling a face and rolling his eyes when the detective stops and turns to receive a gentle peck on the lips from Nate. Morgan's expression is similar to his own as she pushes herself off of the car and heads back towards the warehouse.

He shoots a hand out to catch her elbow as she tries to brush past him and she glares down at it then up at his face. He's not even sure why he stopped her, just that he's selfishly not ready to let her out of his sight yet.

"What?" she snaps after a moment when he doesn't say anything, and he just shakes his head and lets go of her.

"Nothing."

"Why are you being weird?" she eyes him warily, as though she's waiting for him to make a joke at her expense. He supposes it's not an unreasonable assumption.

"I was born that way." he answers with a shrug, and she surprises him by chuckling. He doesn't often get laughter of any kind from her, generally nothing more than the odd smirk, and he mentally curses himself when he realises instantly that she's definitely heard his heart skip a beat when she smiled.

His hand moves as if of its own accord, lifting to brush the hair away from her face and tuck it behind her ear.

"You should smile more often, sunshine."

"Yeah?" her voice is steady as ever, but there's an uncertain frown on her face in response to his uncharacteristic show of affection.

"Suits you." he answers quietly, his eyes dropping down to her lips for a split second before he blinks and moves his hand from where it's still half weaved into her hair. "Makes you look slightly less like a moody bitch."

There it is. The sting in his chest when the scowl returns to her face, only growing more angry when he forces a well practised and convincing grin to his face and winks.

The pain intensifies briefly with the flicker of hurt in her eyes before she jerks away from him. She looks as though she's going to say something, but instead she just flips him off and stalks inside.

He lets out a long breath once she's gone, the effects of hurting her almost like adrenaline coursing through him as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his trousers and walks away from the warehouse, headed for his hotel.

Disappointingly it’s gone by the time he gets there and flops down onto his back on the bed. It makes him wonder what it would take to make it last, to make him feel alive for longer than half an hour, though he knows that the answer is nothing good.

He doesn’t want to completely destroy the girl, were that even possible. But he knows that he’s going to have to get just a little bit nastier, hit just a little closer to home every time to be able to get the same reaction out of her and out of himself.

That is until it finally registers that he’d felt a similar rush when he’d managed to make her smile. The way his heart had stuttered and his breath had caught in the back of his throat. Not a sting this time, but a kind of warmth. A comforting feeling that had shot not just into his chest, but filtered throughout his entire body. And if he concentrates just right he swears that he can still feel it warming the tips of his fingers and toes.

Maybe there’s a different way to elicit some kind of feeling of being alive within himself through Morgan. If only he can get over that damn addictive sting.


	6. Decoration

In a strange turn of events, Tanner can't seem to take his eyes off of Farah, only half listening to Adam as he rattles off things that have absolutely nothing to do with him. He's only sticking around to help them track down  _ one  _ person, it's hardly necessary for Tanner to be included in their weekly meetings.

Yet that's what's happened, without Tanner even really knowing how. He's always bored, always spends almost the entire meeting leaning against the wall beside Morgan and whispering dirty things in her ear to entertain himself and more than once she's let out a frustrated huff and moved away from him.

Today though he's watching Farah in her bright pink cardigan, her curls tied up in pigtails by pink ribbons and red love hearts dangling from her ears. She marches over to him once Adam stops talking and crosses her arms over her chest.

"Tanner Drake, I will not sleep with you." she tells him sternly, and he furrows his brow in genuine confusion.

"What?" he can't keep the surprise out of his voice, nor can he control the way his face twists just slightly in disgust at the thought of sleeping with Farah.

"You've been staring at me all morning."

_ Oh.  _ Well now it makes sense. Kind of. He points to her, then gestures up and down her body.

"Why are you decorated?" Her face brightens at his question and she grins happily at him.

"It's nearly Valentine's Day!"

Morgan groans from beside him and this time he doesn't even try to hide the disgust from his face as he shakes his head with no clue as to how to respond to her obvious enthusiasm for the holiday.

Farah's grin shifts into a sly smirk as she looks between the two of them. "Are you two gonna celebrate?"

"With each other?" Morgan spits, and he glances over at her with a smirk. "No."

"No?" he asks, feigning upset. She just glares back at him.

"No."

"You sure?"

"Very."

"I could bring you flowers-"

"No."

"-take you to dinner-"

"No!"

"-buy you something pretty."

"Tanner!" the back of her hand hits him hard in the middle of the chest, making both him and Farah laugh.

"You can just blow me then." he suggests with a shrug, and this time it's Farah who slaps him while Morgan smirks at him.

"Only if you return the favour, sweetheart."

"I wouldn’t dream of being nonreciprocal.”

“Would you two just admit that you love each other already?” Farah butts in, and they both snap their attention over to her with almost identical looks of horror on their faces.

“Don’t be disgusting.” Tanner remarks with an eye roll before pushing off of the wall and walking away from the pair, shaking his head in exaggerated dismay at Farah's suggestion.

_ Love.  _ He's never heard something so ridiculous in all his life. He likes Morgan, quite a bit actually. A lot more than is made obvious by the way he treats her. But love? Not a hope in hell. He'd let it turn into love over his dead body.

\--

Farah has apparently been let loose to decorate the entire warehouse, and he's not sure how he hadn't noticed it when he'd arrived this morning. There's cheesy party store hearts and cupids and streamers hanging up everywhere, and it only forces home how  _ against  _ it all he is.

His sister was the same with Valentine's day, annoying whether she had someone to spend it with or not. Complaining endlessly if she wasn't dating anyone, and gushing endlessly if she was. But either way Skylar's room was always decorated for it. He can still remember the sickening combination of pinks and purples, disturbingly eye catching whenever he'd walk past her door.

"I didn't mean to upset you," he hears Farah speak up from behind him, and only then does he realise that he's stopped in front of an especially large, particularly glittery heart on the wall and suddenly the whole place screams Skylar so loudly that it makes his head hurt.

It takes him a fraction of a second longer than usual to plaster a smile to his face, but he makes sure it's convincingly in place before he turns to face her.

"Upset me how?" he asks cheerfully, holding back a sigh of relief when her concern instantly fades when she sees him.

"All the stuff about Valentine's, and…" she trails off and gestures around them to the decorations, making him chuckle.

"As long as it makes you happy, love," he reassures her, and she grins widely at him before glancing over her shoulder in the direction she'd come from.

"You know Morgan wouldn't be as annoyed by it as she pretends."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning if you did want to surprise her with something it'd probably go down okay."

He stares at her thoughtfully for a moment, a small frown on his face as he tries to work out where she’s trying to go with this line of conversation. “And what makes you think it wouldn’t annoy me as much as I say it would?”

“Call it a hunch.”

“Right. Well, hate to break it to you kid but I honestly can’t think of anything worse,” her brow furrows when he doesn’t succeed in hiding the strain in his voice quite as well as he would’ve liked and he waits for her to point it out, but she just nods slowly and starts backing down the hall again.

“Alright,” she answers quietly, making him feel simultaneously like shit for raining on her Tanner and Morgan parade, and relieved that the conversation is over at the same time. He watches her go then turns and glares at the sparkling heart on the wall one last time before stalking out of the warehouse.

He thought he’d be safe from these stupid kinds of traditions with a bunch of vampires, and he most definitely didn’t expect for one of them to be so friendly and warm and welcoming, to remind him so much of his sister, that at times it physically hurts to be around her. He shakes the thoughts away as he shoulders his way through the door and steps outside, deliberately ignoring Lucas and the formal greeting he offers on his way, headed back to his hotel room. Hopefully to drink himself into unconsciousness and wake up tomorrow with today’s events fuzzy enough for him to not have to worry about them again.


	7. Pain

Morgan can handle physical pain. Not quite as well as she has people convinced she can, but it needs to be bordering on agonising to really slow her down too much.

Somehow though, something inside of her aches as she watches Tanner heading for the door of the bar, his arm slung around some random girl's shoulders. Tall, blonde, legs for days as the saying goes. Not the most attractive human Morgan's ever laid eyes on, she's sure to point that much out to herself. But then she doubts that Tanner's going to be paying much attention to the woman's face tonight. Not that any of that has anything to do with the painful throb radiating through her body. She can't even tell exactly where it hurts, only that it almost takes her breath away.

And she doesn’t understand it at all.

It only gets worse when the pair stop before they reach the door and Tanner leans in to speak into the girl's ear before slowly kissing over her neck, his hands roaming all over her lower back and ass.

She wants to look away but she can't, for some reason unknown to her she's hyper focused on his hands and his face and the way he pulls the girl's hips against his before they turn and head out into the night, disappearing from her view.

If breathing were necessary for her she feels that she may have passed out by now, every single breath catching in her throat and making the pain worse. She's even worried for a split second that she's about to do something stupid. Like crying. This random pain is  _ that  _ bad.

And she still doesn't know why. Maybe she's sick somehow. Maybe-

"Are you alright?" Nate's voice breaks her out of her dazed state and she snaps her attention over to him with a frown.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Tanner just left with a girl," he points out, gesturing towards the door. As though that explains anything.

"And?"

"Well, I thought you and Tanner-"

"Fucked," she interrupts before he can suggest that they're an actual couple like Farah insists on constantly doing, "we fucked."

He nods, apparently trying to look sympathetic, she guesses. But she swears she can see a glimmer of ironic amusement in his eyes.

"More than once," he offers, the way he's talking making it seem as though he's trying to imply something.

"Yeah, he's good in bed," she answers with a shrug, her tone suggesting it should be obvious and giving him a confused look before glancing back towards the door despite herself.

They're still gone.

As though there was a chance Tanner had changed his mind and come back. As though she even wants him to change his mind and come back. Because why the hell would she want that? Why does she care who he screws? She inwardly confirms to herself what she already knows - she doesn't care - and then downs the rest of her beer before getting to her feet.

The movement draws the attention of Adam and Farah as well, all three of them now looking at her in apparent surprise at the possibility of her leaving early and alone.

Farah's eyes scan the bar before realisation dawns on her face and she hurriedly stands up as well. "Are you leaving? I'll come with you."

Morgan hesitates, brow furrowing further at Farah, "why would you do that?"

"I just thought…" Farah trails off, glancing in Nate's direction with uncertainty before continuing, "I thought you might not want to be alone."

Morgan just shrugs, pulling her jacket from where she's draped it over the back of her chair and shrugging it on as she turns and heads for the door.

Maybe Tanner's still outside. Maybe he changed his mind after all. Or, what if he's just still out there making out with the girl he'd left with? What if he's got her up against the wall just around the corner away from the street lights. He'd do something like that, she's sure of it.

But  _ what the hell is she thinking?  _ Why does she care?

She doesn't. Let him fuck some bimbo out in the open, in the freezing cold. Some  _ ugly  _ bimbo, at that. Ugly and giggling and stupid, not his type and no good for him at all.

What the hell is wrong with her?

"I didn't realise you liked him that much," she'd almost forgotten Farah was beside her, and she scoffs at the entirely incorrect observation before lighting a cigarette.

"Who?" she knows who, but if she admits that she knows Farah will take it as confirmation that it's true.

"Tanner."

"He wishes I liked him at all."

"Well you must like him a little," Morgan glares over at her and Farah shrugs, a tiny smirk playing on her lips. "I think you like him a bit more than a little though."

"You think wrong," Morgan replies dryly, confusion washing over her again when the mention of his name forces into her head images of what he might be doing with that woman right now and the ache hits her again.

This time it's very obviously in her chest, squeezing at her heart and making her lungs feel heavy.

Can vampires have heart attacks? Asthma attacks? What on earth is happening to her?

"You sure?" Farah pushes, dragging an irritated growl from the back of Morgan's throat.

"I think I'd know."

"Would you, though?"

"Yeah."

"But would you really?" Farah's full on grinning at her when she looks back over, though the cheer or entertainment or whatever has gotten into her doesn't seem to be catching on.

"If you have something to say, just say it."

"I just did."

The conversation draws to a close at that. Morgan doesn't even know what Farah's implying, let alone know how to respond to it.

The whole night has given her a headache, so much so that as quickly as she drops her finished cigarette to the ground there's another between her lips and she's lighting up again.

She hadn't wanted to go out anyway, but she didn't fancy hanging about the warehouse on her own either. Then the nauseating sight that is Nate and Lucas fawning over each other until Tina had dragged the detective away, and  _ then  _ Tanner had shown up.

And now? Now she's getting sick somehow, or her heart's giving out, or whatever this stupid, sporadic chest pain means. And the only way Farah can think to help her is to speak in riddles about Tanner  _ fucking  _ Drake.

She's done, and the sooner she can get back to her room and ignore it all the better. She might even try to sleep tonight despite not having been tired in the slightest earlier in the evening. And hopefully when she wakes up (providing her heart or lungs don't stop functioning overnight, of course) this irritating pain in her chest will be gone.


	8. Pain Pt.2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was suggested to me after the original day 7 prompt that Tanner's POV of the same night might be interesting, so here it is!

Her eyes on him are so obvious it's painful. She'd scowled at him when he'd arrived, rolled her eyes at a couple of suggestive comments, yet Morgan had still all but pouted when Tanner gave up and turned away from her to talk to Farah.

Sometimes she's more trouble than she's worth. Sometimes he wishes he hadn't given in and fucked her, wishes he'd just kept her at arm's length and done his job.

However, watching her closely through his peripherals now that he has someone else draped all over him might just be the highlight of his night. She looks beyond unhappy, hurt even, and it hurts him in return. A delicious ache in his chest reminding him that he’s somehow retained the ability to feel things, however brief and faint. The sick feeling in his stomach he could do without, but it's a small price to pay for feeling something normal.

He doesn't even know this girl, he's already forgotten her name and she’d only told it to him five minutes ago. He's not particularly attracted to her, in fact the gutted look on Morgan's face as she watches them head for the door is doing more for him than this random's hands all over him.

He pauses at the door, wrapping an arm around the girl's waist and sliding his hand down to her ass as he leans in to whisper to her how many times he's planning to make her come, knowing perfectly well that they're in full view of the table Unit Bravo are sitting at. She can see them perfectly. If she’s paying close enough attention she might even be able to vaguely hear what he’s saying to her.

He pulls the girl's hips against his own as he leans closer to kiss down the side of her neck, half hard already but it's got nothing to do with the hands under his jacket or the mini skirt clad woman grinding against him in plain view of a bar full of people.

He sees her shifting uncomfortably as he turns to lead his random hook up out of the bar, grinning to himself as it would seem he’s achieved what he’d set out to. She’s  _ jealous.  _ And for her to be jealous means that she must feel something for him. And for her jealousy to elicit such a massive response from his body without him even trying means that he must feel something for her. But of course, he already knew that.

This is what he wanted though, just the tiniest indication that she gives a shit. The smallest hint that she doesn’t want him going home with someone else tonight. He stalls for a few minutes outside of the bar, waiting for her to come out and… and what? Stop him? Give him a high five? Glare at him? He doesn’t even know at this point what he wants from her, only that seeing her get so hot and bothered over someone else groping him has him hot and bothered in a completely different way, and in the back of his mind he’s already trying to think of ways to get this kind of reaction out of her again.

But she doesn’t show, and this girl is getting more and more eager, to the point he has to catch her wrist before her hand disappears into his pants. His heart sinks just a little - maybe Morgan’s not as bothered as he’d thought. It’s somewhat surprising to find that her hurting him gets just as much of a reaction within his chest as him hurting her does and for a split second he considers leaving this random woman behind and going back to his room alone. Whether it’s guilt or just cold feet he doesn’t know; it’s been so long since he’s allowed himself to feel guilty for something that he can’t even remember what it does to him anymore.

In the end he decides that as reassuring as this pain in his chest is, he doesn’t really want to be left alone with it, so he gives up waiting for Morgan and heads down the street towards his hotel with Miss Mini Skirt. She’s better than nothing after all, he supposes.


	9. Sweet

Farah is well aware of who Tanner is. Maybe even more so than Morgan. Maybe even more so than Adam and Nate. She knows that she's picking up on things that they just can't, things that even Tanner doesn't seem to think he needs to keep under wraps.

Things like the way he subtly fidgets with one of his rings at times. She's noticed it's not arbitrary, either; always the silver band on his right pinky finger, and she spotted within five minutes of meeting him that the skin under it is slightly reddened from the ring being turned so frequently. Things like how he somehow seems to have mastered being able to control the speed of his heart beat for the most part, but she hears the very slight, barely there murmur everytime he does. It's an effort, suggesting that he's very deliberately doing it to avoid letting any of them know that he's physiologically reacting to something. Things like the absolute, black nothingness that he seems to force to his eyes whenever they start to show anything other than smugness.

He's very good. Very convincing. But he's obviously never dealt with a vampire from the Echo World before.

So where just about everyone else sees an arrogant, womanising, cold hearted asshole, Farah sees something different. Something that's probably closer to who he was before whatever happened to turn him into those things. She sees his nervousness, his hesitance and uncertainty, she sees through all the bullshit that he projects to everyone (including her) and she sees someone… sweet.

Sometimes it's quite obvious, like when he holds doors open for her and Morgan and Rebecca and the way every single time he visits the warehouse for a meeting, he seeks her out to say goodbye before he leaves.

Sometimes it's not so obvious. Not usually directed at her, but she definitely notices the way he looks at Morgan with what Farah can only really describe as adoration sometimes and the way he'll tuck Morgan's hair behind her ear while they're talking, So frequently that Morgan doesn't even seem to notice it anymore, or the fact that he's at least halved the amount of aftershave he wears since Morgan had complained about it giving her a headache. Or there's the way he talks about his late twin, his voice so full of affection despite how obviously agonising the memories of her are.

He's not bad, not all the way through, despite what Adam and Nate have said. They just haven't noticed the little things that she has, tiny shreds of who he used to be holding on tight and keeping him from losing his mind completely.

She plops down beside where he's sitting on the couch in the study. He glances up at her and smiles, immediately setting his phone down and turning his attention to her. "Hey gorgeous."

She throws her arms into the air in mock exasperation, letting them land loudly back down on her thighs as she shakes her head at him. "Why can't you be nice like that to everyone else?"

"Because I don't like everyone else," he grins at her, ignoring the face she pulls when he leans over to give her a quick peck on the temple before continuing. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

"I wanted to know if you've decided yet what you're gonna do for Morgan for Valentine's."

He sighs so heavily that he reminds her of Adam for a split second and she almost giggles at the idea of being able to compare the two in any way.

"Nothing," he finally answers, and she raises an eyebrow at him.

"Really?"

"Really."

"I think she'd like it."

"I can assure you she definitely would not."

"I think I know her better than you do."

He sighs again, in defeat this time, before he slumps back against the couch and glances back up at her.

"Just like I know you better than you think I do," she tries hesitantly. She doesn't want to piss him off, but she really,  _ really  _ wants to help him drop his guard a little. She knows it would help him get along with everyone better, it would make everyone's lives easier and she knows that if everyone else caught a glimpse of the nice guy hiding under all those layers of jackass, there would probably be a lot less hostility fogging up the atmosphere in the warehouse whenever he was here.

"You think you know me, do you?" he's on the defensive straight away, his tone has changed and she can literally see his muscles systematically tense up despite the relaxed position he remains in. But she also sees his hands come together as he absentmindedly spins the small silver ring.

"I know enough," she replies carefully, giving him a friendly smile which doesn't seem to do anything towards making him relax.

"Such as?"

Such as, she knows that something's hurt him deeply and made him untrusting of everyone and everything, untrusting of even himself. But she can't tell him that. Baby steps, as Nate would always say when Farah was first learning English.

"I know that you pretend to be," she pauses and gestures to him, "this way but really you're much nicer than that."

He relaxes a little and a light chuckle escapes him. "I used to be."

"You still are."

He's quiet for a while and she thinks that maybe she's actually managed to get him to soften up a little until he finally answers, a grin on his face again as he straightens up and pats her lightly on the shoulder. "Agree to disagree, gorgeous."


	10. Warehouse

To say that Tanner is displeased with having to spend the night at the warehouse would be an understatement. He doesn’t particularly like it here. Not the place, not the company. Except for Farah, that is. She’s currently perched at the end of the bed he’s been given for the night. He’s finally made it to the hallway that branches off into Unit Bravo’s bedrooms, but unfortunately he’s still yet to make it into Morgan’s room. Which is probably for the best if he’s honest, he doesn’t fancy having to spend an entire night with her.

Farah sits cross legged facing him, a scrabble board in between them, with her elbows resting on her knees and her chin resting on her hands. Scrabble is not the way he thought his night was going to go, but when Morgan had disappeared into thin air and left him with nothing to do, Farah had cornered him. And how could he say no to Farah?

She claimed to like this game especially, because it helped her cement the English she already knew (the English she was impressively fluent in and severely downplaying her skill in, in his opinion) and every now and then she even got to find a new word to pester Nate about.

Tanner’s taking it easy on her, having already seen several ways that he could beat her but holding back and making it last as long as possible, letting her get as many points as she could. She’s frowning at the board, has been for a while now, and he glances down at it before shifting his attention back up to her.

“You need a hand, gorgeous?” he asks, the nickname falling from his lips without him even considering it anymore. He doesn’t often use such affectionate words on someone he doesn’t want to get into bed, but Farah is different. Farah actually  _ is  _ gorgeous, inside and out.

“Obstinate is a real word, right?” she asks hesitantly, turning her frown up in his direction. He nods, and her frown fades instantly, replaced by a pleased grin as she starts setting her letters on the board. “What’s it mean, again?”

She’s not stupid. Far from it, in fact. But he knows that she’s had a normal lifetime’s worth of language lessons shoved down her throat in only a few years, and sometimes she struggles to recall what definitions go with what words.

“Adam,” he answers simply, grinning back at her when she looks up at him.

“That’s what I thought,” she replies in a kind of hushed voice, as though she doesn’t want anyone around them to hear. Not that there’s anyone around anyway.

“You should sleep over more often,” she announces suddenly once she’s finished placing her tiles on the board. His brow furrows and he gives her an unimpressed glance.

“Sleep over?”

“Yep,” she replies with a grin, obviously having chosen that specific wording deliberately.

“I don’t think so.”

“Not even when it means you’d get to spend more time with the most awesome person you know?” she smiles sweetly at him before jerking both of her thumbs towards herself. “Me."

“You just want to kick my ass at Scrabble again.”

“Like I don’t know you’re throwing the game for me,” she grins at him and he can’t help but chuckle. Definitely not stupid.

“Maybe I’m just dumber than you think I am.”

She rolls her eyes and pushes the board away, apparently tired with it. Maybe that’s why he gets along with her so well. Her attention span almost matches his own and he’s yet to find himself bored with her.

“It’s gotta be easier to just stay here while you’re working with Morgan instead of going back to that hotel. And you can’t tell me your room there is better than this,” she gestures to the room around them. She’s not wrong. It is a lot better than the cheap room he has in the middle of town. Nice enough to be worth temporarily living with Adam and Nate though? Probably not.

“I suppose,” he answers half heartedly.

“Plus, you’d get to spend more time with Morgan,” a sly grin spreads across her face and he sighs in response.

“I don’t think you understand my feelings towards Morgan.”

“I don’t think  _ you  _ understand your feelings towards Morgan.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I think you like her.”

He arches an eyebrow at her and sits up straighter, stretching his legs out on either side of her under the covers. He wonders briefly what’s happened to him, to be sitting in bed with a girl but having no interest in getting her naked and under the covers with him. He decides not to dwell on it for too long, because he knows perfectly well why he has no sexual attraction to her. She’s too much like Skylar. Even in the way she’s sitting up late with him in her pyjamas, playing board games and now talking about girls.

The only thing missing is Farah insisting on giving him a mani pedi like his sister used to, which he doesn’t dare bring up to her because he’s pretty sure that she wouldn’t hesitate to be just as insistent. And he finds it just as difficult to say no to her as he did to say it to Skylar.

“I just think you’re overestimating things,” he answers after a while, trying not to scowl at the way she’s just grinning at him in amusement, clearly not believing his dismissal. Of course he likes Morgan, of course he realises that he likes Morgan, but no one else needs to know that and use the information to try and encourage some kind of committed relationship between them.

“Whatever you say,” she replies before getting to her feet and packing up the Scrabble board and pieces. “You should probably get some rest. If you oversleep in the morning Adam will have your ass.”

“A guy can dream,” he answers with a smirk, and Farah pulls a face before turning and heading for the door.

“Gross, Tanner,” she calls over her shoulder as she leaves the room.

“Hot, Farah,” he calls back right before the door closes behind her.


	11. Flirt

She doesn't  _ like  _ him. He's hot, that's all. And kind of cocky and kind of an asshole and what can she say? Morgan's into it. Maybe it's because he's the same as her; not relationship material by a long shot, but she has a feeling he knows his way around the bedroom. Probably the kitchen, bathroom and any number of outdoor locations as well. That, and he’s hot.

He's obviously not picky if the amount of randoms that seem to recognise him and shoot him suggestive winks while he's out somewhere is anything to go by. He's even made it clear that he holds interest for Farah and  _ Adam,  _ of all people. So why the  _ hell  _ doesn't he respond in the same way to her?

It bothers her. Not because she likes him, of course, but because since when does anyone reject her? She hasn't lost it, she knows this because she picked up only two nights ago without even trying but for some reason Tanner just seems to have absolutely no interest in her.

She's about ready to give up, because be damned if she's going to let him turn her into a girl that  _ chases  _ a guy. At least that is until the door of the hotel room they're sharing in the city while they're trying to find their target flies open and he practically struts inside. Shirt already half unbuttoned, tie undone and sleeves folded up to expose his forearms. Half of the cursive tattoo along his right arm is visible as he drops his jacket down over the back of the couch before glancing up at her. She still doesn't know what the tattoo says, or what it means, despite trying to get it out of him several times already. Not that she cares. She's just curious.

"You wanna take a picture?" he arches an eyebrow at her and untucks his shirt to start unbuttoning the rest of it, and it's not until his voice snaps her out of her daze that she realises she's staring.

"Waste of time with you wearing so many clothes," she replies, then immediately kicks herself. So much for giving up.

He grins at her and slips his shirt off of his shoulders, dropping it down onto the back of the couch with his jacket. "How about now?"

"Still can't see the important part."

"Are you saying you want to see the important part?"

This is the most responsive he's been to her suggestive comments so far, and she wasn't expecting it so she's not quite sure how to answer. He steps closer to her, his hands lowering to his belt but then pausing instead of unbuckling it.

"All you need to do is ask for it," he adds in little more than a murmur, making her frown up at him.

Is this guy fucking serious? A little over a week now of constant flirting and suggesting and occasionally talking outright filth to him, and  _ now  _ he's telling her she still needs to  _ ask for it? _

No.

"In your dreams," she spits in response, and he laughs and lets his hands fall away from his belt, stepping back away from her again.

"Sadly not, but maybe if you give my imagination something to work with you'll have more luck making your way in here." He taps the side of his head lightly, waiting a moment for her reply before shrugging when it doesn't come and turning to head for the bedroom.

She watches him until the door closes behind him, involuntarily holding her breath with a scowl on her face. She  _ hates  _ that he gets her so on edge, that he makes it so difficult for her to ignore his good looks, that he can keep his cool so well around her while on the inside she becomes a frustrated mess.

\--

Tanner chuckles to himself as he closes the door behind him. She's always fun to mess with, though it seems like she might be starting to grow tired of it so he supposes he's going to have to cave to her soon before she gives up entirely and he misses his chance.

_ Of course  _ he wants her to touch him like her twitching fingers give away that she wants to.  _ Of course  _ he wants her to tear his clothes off and get a look at all of him like she obviously wants to.  _ Of course  _ she's made an appearance in his dreams, almost nightly for the last week since meeting her. Filthy, indecent dreams that he's  _ dying  _ to whisper in her ear in great detail, dreams that have fueled the need for the three one night stands he's brought back to the room in the five nights they've been in the city. Dreams that make it increasingly difficult to resist grabbing her and acting out in reality when he wakes from them and she's the first person he sees.

He groans when just thinking about the dreams starts to cause an involuntary reaction from his body, and he forces thoughts of them and of her in general away and tries to think of something else. Toads. Cold showers. The God awful patterning of the wallpaper in the bedroom. Nate.  _ Anything.  _

Morgan's hot, but he's not about to stoop to jerking off to thoughts of her like some kind of school boy. He's better than that, he can wait and save his arousal for the real thing. Something that he suddenly realises he's far more eager for than he'd thought. It's time to stop playing, he decides. Next time she propositions him, he's going to accept.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Thoughts, comments, concerns? Good or bad, you can find me on Tumblr @crackerdumortain and my asks and DMs are always open!


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